The Singing Wind

When I was small the sweet wind sang to me Birch trees rattled their leaves like lisping tongues The waves of the great river leapt up to greet me Grasses stroked my legs when I walked through them I left my shadow on the shoulder of CraigCoilleach I dipped my reflection into the pools of Gairn My happiness soared like wings when I was small You can ask the bees on the heather, they'll confirm it The stag was an ancestor, watching from afar The curlew was a sky toy, in the cavernous clouds I told my secrets to the creaking oaks The moor moths brushed my cheek- bones light and airy Nothing crouched in the glen, no queer hobgoblins Spider webs spread harmless as drying lace I was too young to wonder,"Why have I been born? " Too young to notice the little graves in the leaves To wonder where the unripe fledglings went